


From Rising to Setting And Back Again

by RositaLG



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Newly established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RositaLG/pseuds/RositaLG
Summary: A double shot of newly established, domestic fluff for Sunsetdreamer's birthday month.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetdreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetdreamer/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Sunsetdreamer! This little thing will have to suffice until I can Birthday!Smashtackle hug you properly. See you soon! MUAH.

Phryne was accustomed to staying up all night, but she rarely did it from her bed. She glanced up from her book to read the clock again. It was nearly two and she wondered if Jack had possibly gone to his own home to sleep and hadn’t bothered to tell her. It wasn’t like him to change plans, but she would understand. He’d been so busy lately with a case at work and his mind had been fairly preoccupied, even when she did her best to distract him.

She was just about to give up and go to sleep when she heard his footsteps trudging up the stairs.

“There you are.” Phryne smiled as Jack finally appeared, looking like he hadn’t slept in two days or bathed in three. His suit was a wrinkled mess, his tie was gone, and his eyes had deep purple rings around them. “Long day?”

“Mmm. I have,” he glanced at his watch with a groan, “four hours before I need to get back.” He shuffled over to her and collapsed horizontally across the bed.

“Come here.” She sighed, pulling his head into her lap. He was on his side, his face turned away from her as she stroked the hair above his temple.

“I need a bath.” He stated groggily, even as he tucked a hand under her knee, using her thigh as a pillow.

“I have it on good authority that the bath will still be there in the morning.” She assured him.

“Least undress.” He murmured, losing sentence structure rapidly.

“My favorite task to do on your behalf.” She brushed his cheek briefly with the back of her hand before returning to his hair. He made only a tiny sound in response before his breathing evened out entirely. She stayed like that, watching him sleep, stroking his hair for nearly an hour.

OOOOO

When Phryne awoke, it was to the sound of Jack getting ready for his morning. She debated opening her eyes, given that it had been only two and a half hours since she closed them, but she turned over just enough to see him adjusting his tie in the early morning darkness.

“Very dapper, Inspector.” She whispered hoarsely.

“Oh,” his shoulders sagged as he realized she was up, “I didn’t want to wake you.” He pouted.

“Always wake me.” She made him promise, her heart faltering at the thought of not getting to see him leave. His statement had awoken a fear in her she hadn’t known was there.

Jack nodded, accepting her demands. He made his way over to her side of the bed and brushed a hand through her stringy hair.

“Can I make it up to you with dinner tonight?” He offered quietly.

“Mm. I’d like that.” She agreed, a pleased and sleepy smile on her face at the thought. “I have a new dress I think you’ll appreciate.” She teased.

“I’ll phone when I’m about to leave the station.” He promised. “For now, go back to sleep.” He whispered lovingly as he leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

She smiled against his lips, letting out a little moan of contentment.

“Go save the city.” She replied, dragging a hand down the arm of his suit coat as he stood up, wanting to savor every touch she had.

As she watched him head for the door, she felt an intense desire to make him stay, but she shook it off, feeling foolish. 

OOOOO

As Phryne pulled up to Jack's house, she couldn't make heads or tails of what she was seeing. Jack's front door, a door that was meant to conceal the life of the most private man she’d ever known, was hanging wide open. He'd never purposefully leave it open, not even if he knew she was on her way. She jumped out of the car and made her way up the stoop quickly, only to see a sight that made her skin crawl: a bloody doorknob and a splattering of blood on his stoop. 

“Jack?!” She called out, reaching into her bag for her gun. “Jack, where are you?!” Phryne cried out again as her still gloved hand carefully grabbed at the top of the door jam so she could step carefully over potential evidence.

“Back here.” He called from down the hall, sounding entirely alive to her ears. She let out a sigh of relief as she looked around his parlor for other signs of distress.

“Where is here precisely?” She called out again, the panic slow to leave her voice as she followed blood droplets down the hall.

“Bathroom.” A muffled response told her that he now had something in his mouth.

She found him sitting on the edge of his tub in bloody shirtsleeves. His cuffs were rolled up to his elbows and he had a bandage hanging from his lips. His right forearm had a gash running from the top of his wrist nearly down to his elbow, dripping an alarming amount of blood onto a ruined towel.

"Unless you plan on murdering me, I don't think we'll be needing that." He informed her as he began wrapping his arm up clumsily. 

“What happened?!" She cried, rushing towards him and setting the gun on the sink. 

“Careful! Your new dress.” He mumbled, holding his arm over the tub, ruining his work. 

“Hang careful.” She argued but he held his arm higher. “Oh, honestly.” She sighed in exasperation, tugging her dress over her head and throwing it into the safe part of the hall. She returned to yank the end of the bandage out of his mouth. “Now explain yourself.” She demanded as she took his wrappings apart and started over with a nurse's touch and two good hands. 

“Just a little footle in a back laneway that needed to be broken up on the way home from the station.” He said.

“Well it’s a clean cut at least." She examined the wound carefully. "Was this gang wielding scalpels?”

“Broken bottle actually.”

“Jack!” She scolded him.

“I disinfected it.” He assured her.

“You need stitches. I’m calling Mac.” She decided, standing up. 

“What I need is my bandage.” He argued holding out his hand, but this time it was her turn to hold it out of his grasp.

He stared her down for only a moment before realizing it was a lost cause.

“Fine.” He relented, not wanting to hear any more about it. “But do it before I bleed out please.” He called after her, pressing the towel a little tighter against the wound. 

“And I’m cleaning up your front door. It looks like a crime scene out there.” She yelled back.

"Don’t do it in your slip, the neighbors will… Oh, to hell with it.” He muttered, giving up on trying to tell her what to do.

OOOOO

Mac arrived quickly and in the time it took Phryne to mop up the various blood trails Jack had left throughout his house, he was stitched up cleanly and sent to bed to recover.

Phryne did her best to ignore her previous morning thoughts as she tossed the bloody pail of water down the drain.

Her brain had been wrong. He was injured, but perfectly fine. So why did she keep getting the feeling that he could slip away from her at any moment?

Phryne found her way to the bedroom just as Mac was about to leave. She leaned in the doorway, catching only the tail end of their conversation.

“It’s going to need a few days to heal so leave it be. I mean it.” She chastised Jack as she packed up her kit. “I won’t keep sewing you up just because you feel the laws of biology are beneath you.”

“Don’t worry. I know where he keeps the handcuffs.” Phryne teased him with a wink.

Jack opened his mouth to reply but Mac beat him to it.

“Don’t berate my patient. He needs his rest. Let’s go.” Mac headed for the front door and Phryne followed close behind.

“Stay with him tonight, hmm? Doctor’s orders. But behave, he really does need to sleep. He lost a lot of blood.” Mac commanded.

“Of course.” Phryne nodded seriously as she opened the front door for her.

“I gave him something for the pain but here’s another dose for when he wakes up in the middle of the night, which he will. It’ll knock him out cold again.” Mac ordered. “I’ll call in the morning to check in.”

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Phryne asked gratefully.

“Not today.” Mac said smugly.

“Well I do. Thank you.” Phryne added.

Mac just gave a silent wink in salute and got into her car.

Phryne realized why she had been so uneasy about Jack lately: she’d never said the same to him. Making a resolution to address the fact immediately, she went back into the house.

“Hi.” He smiled happily at the sight of her.

“Yes you are.” She smiled at her own pun, knowing it was lost on him. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?” He asked honestly, not having the slightest idea what she was referencing. “Oh, the arm? All better.” He shrugged off her concern. “I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” She said as she sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. She could almost see the clouds forming in his brain.

“You’re very beautiful.” Jack smiled lazily at her. “Have I said that already?” He frowned, trying to recall.

“You have not.”

“No? I must have just thought it.” He explained. “In my thoughts.” He added seriously.

"It’s a very nice thought.” She smiled. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

Jack shook his head as he rubbed his nose.

“That I love you very much, even if I’ve done a terrible job of saying it to you.” She brushed his curls away from his face. “I’m sorry for that.”

“No. Don't say that. You’re wonderful.” He slurred sincerely, drunkenly patting her arm.

She knew this was no time to be having this conversation as he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning but she felt better all the same.

“Why don’t you close your eyes for a while,” she suggested, “and when you wake up, we’ll discuss getting some food in you and perhaps some more medicine.” Her voice was light, trying to make it sound enticing.

“You take good care of me.” He smiled. “I know you’re a inna...innapenent person,” he frowned in confusion at his inability to say the word smoothly, “but I know you care. You don’t have to say it out loud.” He paused. “Out looouuud.” He repeated, stretching out his numb lips, testing his lack of sensation. He touched them curiously, verifying that they were still attached. “I think my mouth is tired.”

“You’ll both feel better in the morning.” She assured him with a smile as she turned off his lamp.

“Stay.” He mumbled as his eyes closed.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up.” She kissed his forehead.

OOOOO

Phryne woke up to the sounds of Jack whimpering in his sleep. She darted up from the bed, mixed him another powder, and woke him.

“Jack…” She tapped his chest. “Jack, wake up and drink this.”

“Phryne…?” His eyes fluttered open and he looked around before glancing down at his dead arm.

“You got stitches yesterday.” She reminded him. “Here, drink this. It will help.” She promised.

He did as he was told, and he took the glass of medicine in a large gulp.

“Thank you.” He muttered quietly.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked, setting the glass down on his dresser and returning to his bedside.

He shook his head, wincing as he shifted his arm to a more protected position.

She couldn’t help but lay the back of her hand to his sweaty forehead, testing him for a fever.

“I don’t think you have a fever.” She judged. “Which means you must be in that much pain?” She guessed.

“I’ve spent better nights in this bed.” He conceded.

“The medicine will work soon.” She promised, reading his face in the moonlight as she watched him for signs of its efficacy. “In the meantime, keep focusing on those nights.” She smiled. “You’ll need a plan to repay me for our missed dinner last night.”

“Several times over, I think.” He promised. As his body started to relax so did she, until he was sleeping peacefully once more.

OOOOO

Phryne was fixing breakfast when Jack stumbled into the kitchen the next morning.

“You’re up.” She smiled. “How’s the arm?”

“Sore.” He acknowledged, glancing down at it.

“Are you hungry? I made breakfast. I think you can eat toast left handed but if you need assistance...” She sat a plate of marmalade toast down in front of him.

“I’ll manage.” He assured her with a slight roll of his eyes.

She ignored the look as she set about cleaning up the kitchen.

“Mac called Russell Street and told them what happened. You’ll have the rest of the week off to recuperate and then she’ll free you from those sutures on Monday.”

“Four days?” He groaned.

“If you’re amenable to the idea, I’m requesting a transfer to Wardlow so we have some help.”

“What am I going to do at Wardlow for four days?” Jack asked honestly.

“Oh, Jack. If you have to ask…” She turned around to frown at him, disappointed in his lack of imagination.

He chuckled at her response and his eyes scanned over her body, unable to resist the temptation.

“I’m supposed to be resting my arm.” He reminded her as she sauntered over to him.

"I’ve no interest in your arm.” She leaned forward and fed him a piece of his toast. As soon as he took a bite, she did the same from the other side, nose to nose with him.

Jack chewed happily as Phryne licked a splash of marmalade from her lips before setting back to her task at hand.

“Phryne, what are you doing? Sit down and join me.”

“Almost done.” She informed him.

“Leave it.” Jack commanded with an enticing nod towards the other chair.

She couldn’t resist his charmingly suggestive smile and she joined him at the table to watch him eat.

Jack grinned at his victory but then he noticed her longing glance towards the counter.

“Just one last…” She excused herself as she reached quickly for the morning paper and set it on the kitchen table beside him. “There, now I am all yours.”

“What’s going on with you?” He eyed her suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fluttering all over the house, making me meals, cleaning. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“You’ve had a hard week. I’m helping.”

“You left me alone with Mac last night so you could mop my floors. I’m fairly certain you’ve never held a mop brush in your life.” He said pointedly.

“First of all, I mopped those floors because the sight of your blood pooling on the floor bothers me in ways I’d rather not think about, let alone discuss.” She countered sternly. “I left you alone with Mac because you hate showing weaknesses and I thought you’d prefer the privacy. I made you breakfast because you have the appetite of three men and, as previously mentioned, you lost half your blood last night." She pointed out and he acquiesced her point with a surrendering roll of his eyes. "This might look strange to you because you’re the most stubbornly independent man I know, but I’m trying to take care of you, Jack Robinson, because that is what you do for the people that you love, so I would appreciate it if you would sit back, relax, and let me do it.”

Jack was stunned into silence for a few moments.

“I’m sorry for doubting you.” He murmured before picking up a piece of toast. But as his inner gleeful reaction slipped through a rare crack in his mask, she couldn’t help but fight back a smile herself.

“It’s not funny.” She scolded the light in his eyes as she swatted him with a towel.

“It’s a little funny.” He confessed with a chuckle. “You love me enough for all of that?”

“Against my better judgment.” She rolled her eyes. “Also, simply because _you’ve_ never seen me without a household staff doesn’t mean that I am incapable of existing without one.”

“I can see that.” He acknowledged as he stood up. “And as grateful as I am for all of your hard work,” he pulled her to her feet with his good hand, “I’m afraid I currently have every intention of defiling your newly cleaned kitchen.” He drew her in tight and pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw. "Albeit creatively." He added, moving his arm away from them gingerly. 

“And what are your intentions of ever being between my thighs again?” She questioned.

Jack looked her in the eyes, trying to ascertain if she was joking.

She wasn’t.

“The bedroom it is.” He stated diplomatically. 

"Good answer." Phryne nodded in agreement as she pushed him out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Sunsetdreamer. I hope your day was wonderful!

Jack was watching Phryne put her makeup on at her dressing table when she caught him admiring her.

She narrowed her eyes as she picked up one of her many powder brushes.

“Yes?” Jack inquired with a smile, adjusting his shirt cuff and wondering if he could get away with shifting the blame for his eye contact to her.

She simply shook her head, refusing to comment.

Jack was going to be late so he just kept smiling as he put on his suit jacket.

“Dinner tonight?” He offered casually.

Her eyebrow twitched upwards in minute interest at the offer.

“Will you require another minor surgical procedure if I say yes?” She asked him, playing it cool.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.” He said honestly.

“Then I suppose I’ll see you at seven.” She acquiesced with a smile as he kissed the back of her head, respectfully avoiding her fresh face.

“Better make it eight.” He decided as he reached for his hat. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He informed her as he slipped it on his head. He felt Phryne’s curious eyes stay on him all the way out the door. As he made his way down the steps, he hummed slightly to himself.

It was going to be a good day.

OOOOO

Never one to arrive on time, even when she wanted to, Phryne’s knock arrived at 8:05. Jack nervously glanced out the window one last time before heading to let Phryne into the house.

“Good evening.” She smiled as she stepped into the foyer and began to take off her coat.

“Not so fast, Miss Fisher. We have a slight change of plans tonight.” He informed her.

“Oh.” She paused, clearly content to do whatever he asked of her. “Are we going out instead?”

“I suppose you could say that. Right this way.” He escorted her to his back garden, where he had set up a new small table on the back patio. There was a white linen tablecloth and lit taper candles in the center.

“Jack.” She gasped, looking over the scene in awe. “What is all this?” She asked him as she touched a vase of his white roses gently. They were in their final flush and looked blue in the twilight.

“It’s a start, towards my several times over.” He smiled as he held out a chair for her.

“You remembered that conversation?” She grinned as she sat down and he pushed her in.

“Most of it. You’ve been incredibly understanding over the last few weeks. I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“Well, consider it shown.” She looked overwhelmed by the gesture as he poured them each a glass of wine.

“Mm. Hold that thought until after you try dinner.” He winced and she laughed at his completely valid insecurity as he went to fetch their plates.

“It smells good.” She praised when he emerged again.

“I got the recipe from Mr. Butler. Roasted chicken and vegetables. Very hard to destroy, he assured me.” Jack smiled as he began cutting into his chicken.

“Mmm.” She nodded as she chewed her first bite. “The best roasted chicken and vegetables I’ve ever had.”

As they ate, Phryne kept staring at him as if he had conjured their surroundings from thin air. It filled him with a sort of pride to know that he had pulled off something big enough to shock her.

“Shall we go inside for dessert?” Jack suggested at seeing her brief shiver as a breeze blew past her.

“I’ll take a whiskey if you have it.” She exchanged, looking hopeful as he took her plate.

He nodded towards the house with a smile, giving her permission to help herself but Phryne blew out the candles before taking them inside, wanting to help. He followed her inside with the dirty dishes.

“Jack Robinson, did you make this?” She asked. He glanced up to see what she was referring to and waved his head side to side noncommittally as he debated whether or not the tiny chocolate cake sitting on the counter could be considered his.

“From time to time, Mrs. Collins would allow me to pour things into the bowl.” He answered tactfully. "I even got to stir once or twice." 

Phryne laughed out loud.

“Did everyone know about this surprise but me?” She asked.

“I had to do something while lounging about at Wardlow. We don’t all sleep until nine, Miss Fisher.” Jack accused, a knowing smile appearing as he made his way over to her and slid an arm around her waist.

“Even so, to plan all this…” She shook her head. “You are an extraordinary man, Jack Robinson.” She looked up at him adoringly.

“Just trying to keep up, Miss Fisher.” He humbly replied.

“I’d like to see you try.” She purred before kissing him slowly.

A deep warmth filled him that had nothing to do with the wine.

“Do you still want that whiskey?” He whispered, his mouth barely leaving hers.

She shook her head, rubbing her nose against his, before he tightened his grip around her waist and hoisted her up around his waist. She didn’t bat an eyelash as she wrapped herself tightly around him and let him carry her off to his bedroom.

OOOOO

It was nearly three in the morning when Jack woke up alone. He knew immediately that something was wrong, although it took his brain a few moments to realize why his heart was pounding in fear.

“Phryne?” He called, wondering where she might be. He hastily pulled his robe on and padded out of the bedroom. The bathroom was empty, as was the parlor, but there was a clue left in the kitchen in the form of a missing slice of cake. He furrowed his eyebrows and sighed, wondering where she might have absconded to at the late hour.  He glanced out back and saw her sitting at the patio table, wearing a pair of his pajamas, wrapped in a thick blanket, and eating her cake. He stepped silently out onto the small patio in his bare feet.

“If it’s all the same to you, Miss Fisher. I prefer to leave the mysterious disappearances at the station.” He murmured quietly.

“I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you.” She confessed with a guilty smile.

“Leaving has quite the opposite effect.” He informed her for future reference as he sat down beside her.

“Sorry.” She pushed the half eaten piece of cake towards him as a peace offering.

He shook his head, waving off the need to apologize and the offer of cake.

“Your garden is comforting.” She commented. “I can see why you like to spend time out here.”

“It’s the reason I’ve stayed here so long.”

“Not the distance to the station?” She teased.

He smiled at being caught out.

“Mm, so not the only reason then.” She grinned knowingly. “How long have you lived here?” She asked and he felt her eyes watching him carefully, wanting to be sure she wasn't overstepping by asking. He loved her for the concern.

“Almost twenty years now. I made a criminally low bid, but the owner took pity on us: a young constable and his until recently wealthy wife. He accepted without so much as a counter offer.”  

“You’ve made it your own.” She smiled and he rolled his eyes. “It’s…”

“Sparse?” He offered. Rosie had taken most of the decorative trinkets, vases and paintings, things he’d never had a use for. He’d kept the two leather wingback chairs by the fireplace, all the books, the bedroom set, and his family’s kitchen table that his grandfather had made. In fact, the new patio furniture had been the most redecorating he’d done in years.

“It’s practical,” she countered, finding a nicer term, “but still warm.”

“Ah.” He nodded, not exactly seeing what she saw.

She gave him a look that told him he was about to be proven wrong. She slid out of her chair, blanket still clutched tightly around her, and she gestured for him to move forward on the chair.

He knew full well what she wanted so he prepared for her to board his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, resting them on the chair seat behind him. It was only then he realized that she was only wearing his pajama top and her silk smalls.

He gave her a flash of surprise at her lack of clothing and she smiled. 

"At least I brought a blanket, you just have a robe." She defended as she wrapped the blanket around them a few times. Once she settled into her place, she stared into his eyes for a long while before she smiled.

“I like it here because it feels like a proper home.” She touched his jaw and Jack's heart hammered in his chest as his response came immediately to mind. 

"Only since you arrived.” He murmured honestly.

Phryne looked surprised by his confession so he let her search his face for a moment to prove he meant it. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he leaned forward and kissed her softly. She deepened the kiss until Jack's blood was pounding in his ears. 

When she finally broke away, it was to reach between them and hesitantly loosen the sash of his robe. When Jack didn’t put up a fight, she reached underneath her and stroked him slowly. 

Jack groaned against her throat as he grew harder in her hand.

She deftly hooked a finger into her smalls and guided him inside her but he had already met her halfway, pressing into her. They found a slow, but intense rhythm, staring into each other's eyes. They were nose to nose, the stars above them, flowers around them, and Jack couldn't remember ever feeling this connected to another person in his life. 

When he knew she was close, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked through the cotton and she spasmed around him, whispering his name in his ear. He rode her through the aftershocks before spending himself inside her quietly. 

Phryne hummed in satisfaction as he softened and slipped from her. Her nails scraped lightly at the back of his neck, soothing him as he caught his breath.

“Come inside.” He whispered, pressing his lips to her neck and tasting the sweet sweat there. “We’ll get cleaned up and fall asleep in each other's arms.”

She nodded and extricated herself from him carefully.

Jack saw to his robe before standing up and heading back into the house. A few moments later, they were falling back into bed together.

“Thank you for all this.” She murmured as she crawled beside him.

“All what?” He tilted his head, not quite sure why she was thanking him.

“Inviting me to spend time here, letting me stay.” She said simply. “I know how special this place is for you, how much you protect it.”

“Do I?” He asked her.

“You never mentioned so much as an address until after we had slept together.” She reminded him. 

“Only because you already knew it.” He defended, certain she had uncovered his address within days of meeting him.

“Of course I did. What if there had been an emergency and I needed you?” She smiled wickedly. "That's beside the point." 

"What is the point?" Jack asked, too exhausted to verbally spar with her.

“For a long time, you tried to figure out where you would fit into my life, but I also want to fit into yours and I feel like I can do that here.”

“I’m glad. I want you to feel at home here.” He accepted with a yawn. “Now if you don’t mind, Miss Fisher…”

“I just had my way with you on your back patio, Jack, you can call me Phryne.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, _Phryne_ ,” he corrected pointedly, “but it’s the middle of the night and you did just have your way with me, so I’d _also_ appreciate getting some semblance of rest.”

“You should have thought about that before you offered me chocolate cake.” She shrugged, suddenly feeling wide awake.

“Sleep well.” He fluffed his pillow and turned over.

“And might I point out that not twenty minutes ago, you were begging me to come back to bed, awake or not.”

“I’m closing my eyes.” He warned.

“So really, I can’t be fully responsible for this scenario.”

“Good night, Phryne.” He ended his side of the conversation.

There was a long pause as she considered the back of his head, waiting to see if he would really stop talking to her. When his silence confirmed that he was serious, he felt her smile. 

“Good night, Jack.” She whispered, touching his shoulder lovingly. 


End file.
